Greendale is where I belong
by Marrrrrrr
Summary: Set five or six years after the end of season 3. I wrote this to help myself deal with Dan Harmon getting fired off the show. Starts with Britta and Abed, but will expand out to cover most of the cast.
1. Be my little friend

Abed Nadir wasn't really sure where he was going until he'd arrived.

He stared up at the modest looking brick building in the middle of downtown Greendale from his parked car, his eyes unblinking, his mind a chaotic storm swirling with conflicting emotions and anxieties. He'd left his apartment early that morning and just driven, putting as much distance between him and that place, and the person inside it, as he could. His journey had been aimless at first, but eventually he found himself making his way to this building. Abed had only been here once before, right after it had opened, when he and Troy had been given the grand tour by its proud new owner. That'd been… almost a year ago now. He took a deep breath, shut off his engine, and made his way to the front door.

On it was a plate that read: "B. PERRY, CLINICAL THERAPIST."

Abed entered through it into a small waiting room. A row of wooden chairs lined one wall, above which was a painting of an idyllic country scene. He didn't pay it much mind. On the opposite wall was a black and white photograph of three daisies in a simple glass vase, framed against a dark window with only a sliver of light peaking through in the far corner. Abed stared at the photo for a while, his eyes fixed on the middle daisy. It seemed to him as it if was stretching, pulling itself as hard as it could towards the sunlight. It seemed to quiet his mind, somehow.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of a woman clearing her voice. His head snapped to the corner of the room, where an older woman (Abed guessed that she was in her mid-50s) was sitting at a desk. The receptionist, he realized. He didn't recognize her, but that was not unusual for him.

"Can I help you?" she asked. The question was asked warmly, and she seemed unfazed by the fact that a strange man had just spent the last five minutes ignoring her in favor of a picture, but she was probably used to odd behavior, considering where she worked.

"Yes, I'm sorry…" Abed looked at the nameplate on the woman's desk, "…Carol. Is Ms. Perry in? I don't have an appointment, but I'm an old friend. Abed Nadir." He realized that he probably should have called ahead; let her known that she was coming. But he hadn't been thinking so clearly.

"One moment." The woman pushed a button on the intercom next to her. "Ms. Perry? There's a Mr. Nadir here to see you."

"Abed?" He recognized the slightly confused sounding Britta through the static of the speaker. "Send him in!"

Carol took her finger off the button and motioned for Abed to go through the door to her right. Abed took one last glance at the photograph, and then made his way into Britta's office.

Britta Perry was sitting behind a mahogany desk at the far end of the room, typing away her into her Macintosh. Her hair was done up into an elegant looking bun, and she was dressed in a formal woman's business suit, black jacket and skirt over a white shirt. The professional image she was trying to project was slightly undermined by the way she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she typed, but Abed didn't mention this. He'd gotten better at self-censoring.

"Abed!" she said happily without looking up from her typing. "Come in! Sorry I don't get up; I'm in the middle of updating some case notes for one of my patients. Have a seat and give me a sec, 'kay?"

Abed pulled one of the chairs in front of Britta's desk out and sat. Over Britta's shoulder hung her diploma from Greendale Community College, and a slightly more impressive looking one from the University of Colorado that read "Masters in Clinical Psychology." There was also a crude looking painting of a vase which contained tiny little handprints instead of flowers. At the bottom it read (in handwriting that Abed recognized as belonging to his best friend): "Happy Mother's Day! Love, Jules."

Abed let his eyes roam around the room as Britta finished her work. A large bookshelf dominated the right wall of the room. Half of it was taken up by books that ran the gamut from thick, boring looking tomes with academic sounding titles about psychology to lighter, more inviting looking pop psych books written for a more general audience. The other half was crowded with an assortment of toys, board games, and other objects that Abed assumed were for Britta's younger patients. On the other side of the room sat two comfortable looking chairs, sitting facing each other, with a small end table between them. Flanking them was a large couch that was pushed up against the wall.

Britta stopped typing, and, grabbing a mug that was filled with what Abed guessed from experience was green tea, leaned back in her chair to consider her friend.

"So?" she asked simply, "What's up?"

"I realize I should have made an appointment, but I really need to talk to someone. Do you have time?"

Britta frowned. "Abed, we spoke about this. I'm really grateful that you let me practice my therapizing with you while we were at Greendale. It did both of us a lot of good, but the ethics of that were kinda…" she wrinkled her nose, "questionable. Now that I'm licensed, I need to hold myself to a higher standard. I can recommend someone in the area if you want me-"

"Britta," Abed interrupted, "please. I don't have time to get to the place where I can trust another doctor. Can't we just talk… as friends maybe?" He swallowed hard, and blinked a few times. His mind, calmed momentarily by the familiarness of this situation, of the intimacy of his past sessions with Britta, was becoming tempestuous again.

Britta's expression softened, and she reached out over her desk to take Abed's hand in her own. Abed smiled, grateful for the gesture.

"Alright, Abed. I'm sorry if I was a little dismissive. We can talk. My 11 o'clock canceled, so I've got some time. Why don't we go and grab an early lunch? My treat."

Abed nodded. "Shirley's?" he asked. He had always suspected that Britta had settled on this particular piece of real estate for her offices because of its proximity to their friend's sandwich shop.

"Sounds great! We can walk there." Britta pushed the intercom button. "Carol? I'm headed out to lunch. Call my cell if there are any emergencies."

"Yes, Ms. Perry. Oh, I almost forgot. Your husband called while you were with your last patient. He said to tell you that he's getting off early today so you don't have to worry about picking your daughter up from daycare."

"Thank you, Carol." Britta sighed as she let go of the intercom button. "10 to 1, I come home to find the light of my life has bought yet another oh so adorable costume for our child…"

Abed laughed, the pressure around his heart easing a little. This had been a good idea.

"Shall we?" Britta asked, pushing her chair back and standing up. Abed did likewise, and the pair left the office together, heading out into the bright Colorado sun.


	2. Through the mountains end

The walk to Shirley's Sandwiches was uneventful. Britta tried to keep the conversation light, focusing on movies and television. She had her suspicions about what had upset her friend, but kept them to herself, at least for now. Better to wait until they were sitting down with food in front of them to explore Abed's problems.

She found out that Abed wasn't a big fan of the latest regeneration of Inspector Spacetime ("too derivative") and that he was really looking forward to the Avengers 3 ("it's probably going to be better than the first one but not as good as the second"). Britta, who hadn't even known that the Inspector could regenerate and was only aware of what an Avenger was because of her husband, just nodded and tried not to let her ignorance show too much. Abed seemed happy carrying the conversation on his own, though, and she felt him relaxing as they made their way across Greendale's downtown.

Britta smiled as the familiar looking sign, complete with a grinning cartoon version of the owner holding a plate full of sandwiches, came into view. She ate lunch here most days ever since she'd opened her own practice, mostly alone but sometimes with her husband when he had the time. It was a part of her routine, a sign that a stressful day was almost over and that she would soon be free to go home to her family.

They'd beaten the usual lunchtime rush, an advantage of showing up early. The place was far more empty than usual, with only a couple of patrons munching away. Usually the place was packed, but right now there wasn't even a line to order.

"Bri-tta!" came a familiar lilting voice as they entered. Shirley stood behind the counter, an apron tied around her waist. "You're early today. Oh, and you brought Abed with you. That's nice!"

"Hi Shirley!" Britta said, grinning at her friend's enthusiasm. Shirley was always this welcoming, even though they went through this nearly every day. Occasionally, when the place was really packed and Britta couldn't hear herself think among the din of hungry, noisy people, Shirley would let her eat in her office in the back. A few, if Shirley was feeling particularly overwhelmed, the restaurateur would even join her there and they would spend Britta's lunch break just talking. That'd happened more often earlier in the year, after the death of her business partner. Pierce's death had hit Shirley particularly hard, even though the whole study group had mourned him.

_One friend's emotional crisis at a time, Britta_ she thought to herself.

"I'll have my usual." Britta said.

"And I will have…" Abed said, his eyes raking across the large menu board behind Shirley, "the BLT, I think."

"Do you want fresh fruit, veggies, or French Fries with that pumpkin?" Shirley asked, already ringing up Britta's order.

"French Fries. And a Coke."

"Great! It'll be about ten minutes. Why don't you guys go grab a table? I'll bring your food out to you when it's ready."

Britta and Abed found a booth in the far corner of the shop, far away from the other diners. They sat opposite each other, Abed looking around the restaurant. Britta realized that he'd been here a lot less often than she had, and might not even have visited since Shirley had had the place redecorated. It was a homey looking aesthetic, and Shirley had been careful to balance the need for lots of places for people to sit with her desire to present an open, welcoming space. She'd done a pretty good job, Britta thought. Even though lots of people ate here every day, she always felt there was a place for her here, though of course a lot of that probably had to do with being best friends with the owner. But judging by how well Shirley was doing, business-wise, Britta guessed that other people thought the same way. The fact that the sandwiches were always delicious didn't hurt, of course.

"So… Abed," she began. "You seemed pretty upset earlier. What's bothering you?"

Abed looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact. "Annie and I… we had a fight." Britta had suspected right, after all.

"Couples fight, Abed. It happens." Britta said, keeping her voice low and sympathetic.

"I know, but… it got heated. Things were said… well. I woke up this morning on the couch, not that I slept much. And I just had to get out." He was beginning to tense up again, his face fixing into a frown. Britta noticed that his hands, laid out on the table in front of him, had begun to tremble. She reached out and grasped them with her own hands, stilling them. He seemed to be having a lot of trouble formulating his thoughts into words, and It hurt her to see him this upset.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Abed. Do you want to talk about what you were fighting over?"

Abed looked up at her then, and she could see the tears beginning to well up in his eyes. "Annie wants to have a baby."

Ah. Things were beginning to click for Britta. She knew Abed's childhood had not been a happy one, known it since their first year at Greendale, in fact, ever since he'd shown her that first student film. With all his fears relating to abandonment, it made sense why that prospect would terrify him. She knew from experience, though, that it was better to let Abed talk, and let him come to these realizations on his own. He'd always been able to sort through his emotions as long as he was given the room to talk about them. So she simply asked: "She told you that?"

"She's been dropping subtle hints for a while now and I guess… I've just been ignoring them. Then they started becoming… a lot less subtle. Then last night-" He cut himself off, looking away again.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to continue on his own, that that particular memory was still too fresh in his mind to talk about, Britta decided to go another route. "What do you feel, when you think about becoming a father?"

Abed seemed to consider this for a moment, but before he could answer, Shirley had arrived with their food. Britta hurriedly pulled her hands back to her side of the table.

"Here's one grilled Portobello sandwich with peppers and mozzarella for you Britta, with a side of baby carrots," she said, placing Britta's usual order in front of her, "And one BLT for… Abed? Are you alright?" Shirley was looking at Abed with a concerned look on her face.

"I… thanks Shirley." He said, avoiding the question and forcing a painful looking smile onto his face. "This looks delicious."

Britta looked between her two friends, unsure of what to do. In retrospect, maybe coming to a restaurant where they both knew the owner to have this delicate a conversation was a bad idea. It was conflicts like this that had lead her to discontinue therapy sessions with Abed in the first place. Despite her suggestions at the time, Abed hadn't sought out treatment from other professionals. Britta had tried to talk him into it, but eventually let it go. Maybe that had been a mistake, given Abed's current mood.

Thankfully, Shirley didn't press, though she cast a worried look back at their table as she walked away.

"Anyway, Abed," Britta continued once she was out of earshot, "How does the concept of being a father make you feel?"

"I don't know." Abed said, frowning again. "I guess… scared? Really scared. Like I felt back in junior year, when I thought Troy was never coming back."

Britta did not particularly like reliving that memory, or their first disastrous therapy session that followed. Still, she pressed on. "What do you think it is that scares you about it?"

"I think about a child… my child. And I wonder if he'll be like me. Broken." Abed looked down at his hands again.

"Abed," Britta said firmly, "You are not broken." Britta was starting to get really concerned now. She'd never heard Abed use that word in relation to himself before.

"And then I think… what if it's not genetics that does it? What if it's me? What if I don't- can't love him enough, and it… it breaks him."

Britta noted his use of the male pronoun for his speculative child. It definitely sounded like a lot of his issues with his own mother and father were coming into play here.

"Have you talked to Annie about any of these feelings?" Britta asked.

"No… no I guess I haven't. I hadn't really put them into words, before now."

"What would you do, when she brought up her desire for a child?"

"Ignore her, I guess? Change the subject." His frown deepens. "I guess I've been pushing her away lately, so that it'd come up less. I've been spending more and more time on my movies…"

He was silent again, staring down at his untouched sandwich.

"Abed? Do you think you were ignoring her because you were afraid of having a conversation about it?"

Abed nodded, but again said nothing, just sat there, blinking down at this BLT.

"What were you afraid of?" Britta asked. She was starting to get really worried again. Being this withdrawn was always a big warning sign with Abed. She decided she was going to have to press a little harder. "Were you… were you afraid that if you brought up these concerns you have, that she'd leave you?"

And that's when the tears that had been welling up finally broke through. Abed let out a long, strangled sob, covering his face with his hands and weeping openly.

"Abed!" Britta cried, shocked. She got up quickly and slid onto his bench, grabbing his trembling shoulders. She should never have brought him into a public place for this discussion. Wouldn't have, if she'd known he was this fragile emotionally. Thankfully the only other customers in the restaurant were seated far away, and either didn't notice Abed's outburst or pretended not to. Shirley was looking at them from behind her counter, her hand covering her mouth, but she kept her distance.

Britta held Abed for a while, rubbing his back and laying his head on her shoulder. The cries he was making were raw, almost primal, as if Abed didn't have the presence of mind to shape them into anything other than a formless wail. This fit wasn't as bad as some of the others he'd had, but it hurt Britta all the same, pulling her heart down into her stomach. She felt tears of her own building up, and she quietly shushed Abed, running her hand through his hair and rocking his body back and forth until his sobbing stopped. He was still shaking, and Britta could feel the raggedness in his breathing as he gulped at the air.

"Well…" Britta said, trying to come up with something to say to break the tension, "I think we hit on something there."

Abed straightened, pulling away from Britta. He ran the back of his hand over his cheeks, drying his tears. Britta handed him a napkin, and he blew his nose before giving her a weak smile.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "I'm feeling a little better now. I think I needed that."

"Abed, Britta said after a moment, one hand still placed on his shoulder. "I can't tell you whether you and Annie should have kids. That's a decision only the two of you can make. And I can't tell you whether your kid will be neuroatypical or not. Wherever you lie on the autism spectrum, it's going to be roll of the dice, just like it is for every parent. Yes, your chances might turn out to be a little worse than the average couples, but that's not a guarantee of anything." She paused momentarily, deciding if she should reveal something. "If it makes you feel any better, Troy and I worried about the same sorts of things, when we were talking about having Jules."

"Really?" Abed asked, sounding surprised.

"Really. I was worried that because of my age, she might be born with any number of problems, autism included. But Troy and I decided that it was worth the risk, and that no matter what we were going to take that baby and surround it with so much caring and understanding and acceptance that she couldn't help but grow up in this world knowing she was loved. And I know, between you and Annie, that any child the two of you have will have the same thing. I've seen the two of you together with Julia. I think, out of any of the rest of the Group, you're her favorites. I _know _your baby would never feel unloved.

"And Annie loves you Abed. I remember your wedding. I'd never seen her, or anyone, that happy. I don't think she stopped smiling the entire day. I know she's not going to leave you just because you admit that you're afraid of being a father. She probably has all sorts of anxieties about it too. And I know it must be hard to talk to her about yours, especially since it sounds like you don't fully have a handle of them yourself yet. But keeping these feelings bottled up can't be easy on either of you."

Abed sits there for a moment, not moving. He's not shaking anymore either, though. Finally he looks up at Britta and smiles, and even though his eyes are still a little sad, Britta can tell that what she said had gotten through.

"Thanks Britta. You're a good friend."

She smiles back, then draws him in for a hug.

"You always have people that love you, Abed. Never forget that. And you are not your mother." She holds onto him tightly for a moment, and then releases him. "Now, you better start eating those fries before they go completely cold."

Abed takes her advice, grabbing a fry and biting off the end of it. Britta got up and returned to her side of the table and her own plate of food. They sat in silence for a little while, both eating their sandwiches. Britta's Portobello had gotten a little lukewarm, but it was still soft and juicy. The side of carrots, with their crisp texture, provided a nice contrast.

"Did you take that picture in your waiting room?" Abed suddenly asked a moment later, breaking the silence.

"Huh? Oh, you mean the one with the flowers? No, I wish. I pretty much gave up photography after Greendale. No real time for it, what with grad school and then interning. Then with Julia and opening my own practice…" She shrugs. "Plus, I was never really that great at it to begin with. Did you like the photo?"

"Yeah," Abed nods, "It really resonated with me."

Britta snapped one of the baby carrots in half with her teeth. "It always reminds me of a certain kind of longing… and at the same time of the ability for life to be beautiful, even amongst pain."

"That's a good way to put it," Abed says, before taking another bite of his BLT.

"I'm glad you're feeling better Abed. Do you think you and Annie are going to make it to the dinner this week?" She leaned in, feigning a conspiratorial air, "I hear from Shirley we might finally get to meet Jeff's new girlfriend."

"I don't know. I hope so. I have to apologize to her first. I've been an ass."

Britta smiles. "Something tells me she'll forgive you."

"Maybe," he said noncommittally. "Thanks for talking to me Britta. I hope I didn't make you feel too uncomfortable."

"Abed, I will always be here to talk to you as a friend." Britta said. She pulled a pen out of her purse and began writing a name and number on the back of a napkin. "But it would really make me feel better if you called this number. It's another therapist, a friend of mine I met interning actually. I think she'd really be able to help you, especially if you and Annie consider this baby thing."

Abed takes the napkin, reading Britta's scrawled handwriting. "Cool. I'll do that. I don't think that I was as done with therapy as I thought I was, back when we stopped."

"I'm glad we talked too. Will you call me tonight, and let me know how you're doing?" Britta asked, taking his hand in hers again. Both of them had finished their meals by then, and the first wave of the lunch crowd was beginning to make its way into the restaurant.

"Of course. You ready to go?" Abed didn't seem particularly eager to be in a crowded space at the moment.

"You go ahead. I'm going to talk to Shirley really fast before I head back to the office. Is that okay, or would you rather me walk you to your car?" Britta asked, not wanting to abandon her friend if he still needed her.

"No, I think I'll be okay. I really am feeling a lot better. I'll call you tonight." And with that, Abed made his way out of the shop.

Britta breathed a sigh of relief after he was gone, resting her head on her elbows. That had been a lot more stressful than she had thought it was going to be, and she felt drained, exhausted.

She looked up suddenly as Shirley slid onto the bench that Abed had only a moment ago been occupying.

"He going to be alright?" she asked Britta, still looking worried.

"I think so. I'm sorry about that, Shirley." Britta answered, looking at her friend guiltily, "I shouldn't have brought him in here. I didn't know that was going to happen, but I should have respected your place of business and not brought a therapy session, or whatever exactly that was, in here."

"Oh pumpkin, don't worry about that. I've seen worse breakdowns in here, believe me. Last week a woman started crying in line when Denise told her we were all out of horseradish. And it was a lot busier then, too. I'm just glad to know he's gonna be okay."

"Thanks Shirley." Britta said, beginning to feel a bit better herself.

"Are you gonna be okay, Britta?" Shirley asked, meeting Britta's gaze and reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I know how complicated things got when you were working with Abed before."

Britta sighed. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I just thought today was going to be pretty light." She squeezed Shirley's hand back. "Thanks for looking out for me though."

"Anytime. I gotta get back to work though; things are gonna start getting crazy in here and its Eduardo's first week in the kitchen. You want to take anything to go, a brownie maybe?"

"No thanks. I should get back to the office, try and get a little work done before my next session. I'll see you tomorrow, Shirley, or if not at Jeff's on Thursday." The two friends got up and hugged. Britta was glad, and not for the first time, that their businesses were within walking distance of each other. Having a friend this close made her days so much easier.


	3. We could write a book

Annie Nadir sat perched on her bed, blankets pulled up in a protective ball around her. She was still dressed in the flannel pajamas she had been wearing when she had woken up that morning, alone. Her eyes were red and puffy, irritated from the tears that had been flowing from them all day, as the pile of discarded tissues next to her could attest.

She gazed down at the black framed photo she had brought in from the apartment's front hall, her favorite picture from her wedding. Usually looking at it brought back the feelings of joy and elation that she'd experienced the day that she'd married Abed, but right now all it was doing was making her cry harder.

In the photo, Annie was feeding Abed a piece of their wedding cake with her bare hand, laughing in her immaculate white wedding dress at the mess she was making. Abed was laughing too, genuinely and fully. The look of real happiness that shone in his eyes, even through this photo, was the reason that Annie treasured this memento so much.

_God,_ she thought,_ I am such an idiot._

She'd lost her temper last night. She knew that. Known it at the time, really. But while she was there, in that moment, she hadn't cared.

The evening had been going so well too. Annie had taken Abed to a new Polish restaurant that had recently opened in Greendale, hoping that a night out would help relieve some of the tension she'd felt building between them the last few weeks. The food had been delicious, and, according to Abed, very authentic. Annie had felt the distance between them start to melt as they ate. He was smiling for the first time in a while, and his body language was opening up. The scowls, the lack of eye contact, the subtle dismissiveness that she'd started to notice creeping into their interactions were all gone.

When their dessert order arrived, Abed had reached across the table to grab her hand, his eyes glinting in the light of the small candle sitting in the middle of their table.

"I'm really glad we came out tonight, Annie. You were right, we needed this."

Annie smiled at him, and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "I'm glad too. I love you, Abed."

"I love you too," he said as he brought her hand to his mouth to lightly kiss her finger tips. Annie could feel his hot breath on her knuckles, and felt a familiar warmth spreading through her midsection.

They were already kissing as they reached the front door of their apartment, Annie pausing to nuzzle her husband's neck as he fumbled for the keys.

"I need you so badly," she whispered into his ear. That seemed to motivate him, because a second later the door was open and he pulled her inside with a forcefulness that was surprising but not unwelcome. They didn't even bother trying to make it to their bedroom; instead Annie pulled Abed down onto the living room couch while she pushed the jacket off his shoulders.

With a grin, Abed pulled his t-shirt up over his head and tossed it into the corner of the room. When Annie reached out to unbuckle his belt, though, Abed stopped her.

"Wait. Let me run to the bathroom for a condom."

"No, don't. I don't want anything between us, tonight," Annie said huskily, reaching up to pull his face back down to hers. But Abed resisted her, getting up and stepping away from the couch instead.

"Oh," he said, seemingly to himself, "Right. That makes sense."

"Abed?" Annie asked, her voice tinged with concern. It was happening again.

"Tonight. The dinner. All the romance. It was because you wanted a baby."

Annie felt her temper start to rise, angry at his detached description of their evening.

"I took you out to dinner because I wanted to spend some time with my husband who's been too busy working on some stupid movies with a bunch of community college students to spend time with me!" Annie felt heat flooding into her face.

"You really thought this was the way to do it Annie? Just butter me up and hope I wouldn't have the presence of mind to say no to sex without a condom?" Abed asked, ignoring her accusation.

"Well maybe if you'd actually talk to me about this instead of running off or changing the-"she began, but Abed cut her off

"I don't know why you insist on always bringing this up when it should be obvious by now that I don't want to talk about it."

"Obvious? OBVIOUS?" Annie felt the dull throbbing pain of a stress headache flair up in her skull. "How should I know what's obvious to you Abed? You haven't said word one on the subject until just now!"

"I shouldn't have to!" Abed's voice was rising now too to match hers.

"Well some of us need to talk about these things Abed! Some of us can't just sit on our feelings and pretend they aren't there. Some of us actually feel the need to relate to other human beings, for instance, the human beings that we're married to. Some of us-" and Annie was fully snarling now, "-aren't fucking BROKEN!"

She felt good, justified even, as those words were forming in her mind. All the stress of the past month, all the anger and frustration and resentment that she'd been pushing down came pouring out as she said them. But the moment they had left her mouth, she felt empty. Tired. Sad. Even before she saw the look on Abed's face as he recoiled away from her as if she had whipped him, before he grabbed his discarded shirt and stormed off into the room that had once been the Dreamatorium but now served as his editing bay, she knew she had made a terrible mistake. That she'd said something she could never unsay.

She'd thought about going after him, about begging his forgiveness, telling him that she'd just been frustrated and that she hadn't meant any of it. But she'd been too ashamed.

Instead, she'd slunk off into their bedroom, thinking she'd give him space and apologize when he came to bed. But he never had, even though Annie stayed up practically all night, unable to sleep. When she'd awoken the next day, she'd found linens and pillows set up on the couch, but no Abed. She knew the cinema class he taught at GCC didn't meet on Tuesdays. She'd called his cell phone, but found it ringing on the kitchen table. He hadn't taken it with him, wherever he'd gone. So she'd called in sick at the hospital and sat, waiting, hoping that he'd come home.

And now it was past noon. She hadn't eaten. She had no appetite, and knew that food would just taste like ash in her mouth. She'd thought of calling the police, but knew that they'd hear her story and just tell her that there was nothing they could do, that he'd either return on his own or… he wouldn't. Annie couldn't even bear to think about that possibility.

Calling one of their friends was also out of the question. What would she do? Explain to Britta or Troy that she'd called Abed a broken person? No.

She looked down at the picture again, this time caressing photo Abed's cheek. She was _such_ an idiot.

Annie looked up suddenly when she heard the sound of the apartment's front door opening.

"Abed?" she called out cautiously, letting the blankets slip off of her.

She heard the sound of footsteps making their way across the floor, and then Abed was standing there, framed in the doorway to their bedroom.

"Abed!" Annie cried, almost leaping off the bed and racing over to pull him into a tight embrace. Slowly, he returned the hug and rested his head on top of hers. She could feel him shaking, and his heart beat quickly in his chest.

"Annie…" he choked out, "I am so sorry…"

"No… Abed," she said, pulling away enough to look him in the eyes but kept her arms locked around him, afraid that if she let go he would disappear again, "I'm the one who should be apologizing. What I said last night… I…"

"I provoked you Annie. You were right. I've been avoiding you lately, finding excuses not to be around. Throwing up walls to keep you distant, even when I was here." The look of pain in Abed's eyes was so intense Annie could barely stand it. "All because I was too afraid to have a simple conversation. I haven't been fair to you."

Annie didn't say anything immediately. Instead, she took his hand and led him over to their bed. She sat down, and patted the space next to her.

"Come on. Sit next to me."

Abed did so, his expression serious as he met her gaze.

"You've been crying," he said, reaching over to brush her cheek, "I'm sorry. I didn't think… I wasn't thinking when I ran off this morning. I just needed to get out of here."

Annie melted into his caress, covering his hand with her own.

"Where did you go? I was so worried. I thought that maybe you weren't coming back."

"Nowhere at first. I just drove around Greendale for what must have been a couple of hours, replaying last night in my head. Then I went to see Britta."

Annie felt a pang of jealousy that she quickly repressed. She'd resented the time Britta and Abed had spent together in their fourth year at Greendale, convinced the older woman would break Abed with her clumsy attempts at therapy. Her misgivings had only increased when it appeared that Britta's sessions with Abed were doing him some real good. Eventually she had come to understand, intellectually at least, that these feelings were born out of her insecurities, and from her unrequited (or, at least what she thought at the time were unrequited) feelings for Abed. She'd just been so used to competing with Britta romantically, first with Vaughn, then Jeff, that she'd continued that trend over to Abed. Once he and Annie had begun a relationship, those feelings began to diminish, but apparently she still felt it enough to be resentful even now.

"Did that… help?" She asked, trying to keep her voice innocent.

If Abed sensed her hesitation, he made no sign of it. "I think it did. She helped me articulate a lot of what I've been feeling, anyway. I think I've tied up a lot of my own… issues… into this question about parenthood."

"You mean… about your mom leaving?" Abed nodded, and Annie felt her guilt flare up again. "Oh… I hadn't even thought about it that way. Why didn't you say something?"

"I guess… partly I hadn't even put those fears into words. It was easier just to avoid them, to focus on something else instead of looking at it straight on. But also… I thought that if I did say something…" he swallowed, hard, "that you'd leave me too."

"Oh… Abed!" Annie said, feeling tears well up in her eyes, "I would never do that!"

"I understand that now, saying it out loud. Fears like that usually aren't very rational." Abed frowned. "Please don't start crying again. I don't think I could handle causing you any more pain today."

"Abed, just forget about the baby. I should never have kept bringing it up, "Annie said. The guilt of causing this much distress to Abed, her Abed, was eating her up inside.

"No, that's not what I want either!" Abed said quickly. "I mean, there are a lot of issues we should discuss before we make any kind of decision, but I don't want to guilt you out of your dreams. That's the whole problem!"

"Problem?" Annie frowned. "What do you mean?

Abed looked away. "The whole reason why my abandonment issues have been so heightened lately, why I've been so afraid of you leaving me … I think it's because part of me feels like you should have. A while ago."

"Abed! How could you say that?" Annie's voice rose an octave or two. Abandon Abed? The entire idea was insane.

"At Greendale, you were so driven, so committed to your goals. You were going to be a hospital administrator. I remember you talking about it with real passion," Abed said. "But then you gave it up, decided to get a nursing certification instead. I always felt like… like I was responsible for that. That you didn't go after your masters because of me. That I've held you back. That I've been… a burden."

Annie was stunned, unsure of what to say. She had never suspected that Abed felt this way, that he blamed himself. It hadn't been Abed, or at least Abed alone, that had convinced her to change her career plans.

"That's not true at all!" Annie started, "I mean, yes, I used to want to be an administrator, that's true. But that desire was born out of a need to prove myself, to demonstrate my superiority. As if I got a master's degree and my own hospital to run, my parents would finally realize that I hadn't ruined my life when I went to rehab instead of graduating high school. I wasn't thinking about what made _me_ happy.

"But you, all of the study group at Greendale, you guys helped me learn how to live in the moment. How to… to follow my bliss!" Annie saw Abed smile as she repeated the line from the Joseph Campbell interview he'd suggested she watch. "And yes, following my bliss includes being with you. But more than that, it meant helping people as much as I could. I realized that I could do much more good, and be a lot happier, if I became a nurse instead of spending at least another decade in school and internships. I don't regret that decision for a moment.

"And anyway, Abed, there's no reason why our relationship would have had to end if I hadn't changed my mind. Colorado Springs isn't that far away. Britta and Troy managed to keep their marriage going while she went to graduate school there. I have no doubt in my mind that we could have weathered that same storm."

Abed didn't seem to have anything to say to this, but he still wasn't looking at her. Annie reached out, turning his face towards hers and staring into his eyes.

"You could never be a burden to me, Abed. It's the exact opposite. You're my rock."

Abed's eyes began to mist up, and he pulled Annie to him, enveloping her in his arms.

"I love you so much, Annie," he whispered into her ear.

"You know you can tell me anything, no matter how irrational you think it is, right?" Annie asked as she rested her head against his chest. She felt safe, secure here in Abed's arms.

"I know. It's just… hard sometimes. But Britta recommended me a therapist friend of hers in the area. I think I've still got a lot of work to do on myself."

Annie frowned, pulling away. "A friend? She doesn't want to 'therapize' you herself?"

Abed shook his head. "She thinks it'd be unethical, given our friendship. It's the reason I stopped going to her in the first place."

"Oh." Annie, who had told Britta something along those lines back when the other woman had first started treating Abed only to be dismissed because she wasn't a "trained practitioner of the mental arts", thought that was pretty sensible. "Are you going to be okay going to a stranger? I know you don't like doctors."

"It'll be hard, but…" Abed said, pulling Annie back to him, "you mean too much to me not to try."

They held each other for a while, Annie eventually knocking the pile of tissues to the floor so they could lie down on their bed. There was no hint of eros to their actions, not like last night. That wasn't what this was. This was two people creating a little refuge against a world that was so often full of misery and sadness. Outside their window, that world still existed, was still a place where there was suffering, where people hurt each other and themselves in a billion different ways every day, but in that moment neither of them cared. They had each other.

XXXXXXX

_Author's Note: Okay, I feel like maybe that last paragraph is maybe a little bit too much, but I'm going to leave it in anyway because why the fuck not? This isn't the end yet, I think there're probably another couple of chapters until I'm done. Thanks for reading, and to everyone who's reviewed so far!_


	4. Without thinking how it'd look

Troy Barnes gazed down at his infant daughter with a feeling of pride and accomplishment. It wasn't her budding young mind or her ever increasing mastery over the ability to walk that were drawing these emotions out of him, but instead the blue costume, complete with a spherical blue plastic helmet, that he'd just finished dressing her in. This was, without a doubt, the greatest purchasing decision he had ever made.

"All right," he said to the young Julia Barnes-Perry, "You're all set to defeat Dr. Willy's six evil robot masters now, baby."

Julia clapped her hand in delight, clearly still thrilled at the unexpected afternoon outing with her father. "Wobot!" she giggled.

Troy leaned down to scoop the child up into his arms. He had almost not bought the costume, but the look of excitement in Jules's eyes when she'd seen it had convinced him otherwise. He knew that she had probably just picked up on his own enthusiasm for the outfit, brought on from the nostalgia he held for the videogames of his youth, but he didn't really care. It made her, both of them, happy, and he knew she wasn't going to be this easy to please forever.

And besides, money wasn't exactly tight. Yeah, opening up Britta's offices had set them back, and the date when they'd see a return on their investment was probably far in the future considering how many uninsured patients his wife saw. But the repair service he'd set up with Jerry after graduating the A/C school was doing really well. The initial capital had been put up by Pierce, but all the growth the company had gone through since then had come down to a lot of hard work. This year, they'd even expanded their services out to energy efficiency improvements and solar panel installation, taking advantage of a bunch of government subsidies in the process. So if he wanted to splurge a bit on a gift for his little girl, he was going to do it.

"That's right little dumpling. Robots." Troy said as he rocked her back and forth. It was already 3:00, well into her usual naptime, and if he didn't get her to bed soon he was going to have to deal with a very cranky baby in a couple of hours.

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to their second-floor apartment temporarily precluded that possibility. Jules snapped her head in the direction of the apartment's front door, all thoughts of sleep abandoned.

"Mommy!" She cried with joy.

By the time Troy had carried Jules out of her nursery and into the living room, Britta had already made it inside. She'd hung up her coat, let her hair down, and was busy trying to work a kink out of her neck. She looked stressed, but brightened immediately when she saw her husband and daughter.

"Hi honey! Oh, and who's this you've brought with you?" Britta asked, bending over to Jules's eyeline. Troy could tell that even though Britta was play acting, she genuinely did not recognize the character Jules was supposed to be.

"It's Mega Man!" Troy beamed, but the smile Britta returned was less than enthusiastic. _Is she mad I bought this thing?_ Troy wondered to himself. "I thought you'd've appreciated the way we were bucking traditional gender roles."

"Wobot!" Jules added, helpfully.

Britta cooed, taking Julia out of her father's arms and into her own.

"I think you're a beautiful Magnet Man, Julesy," she said, planting a quick kiss on the child's light caramel colored nose.

Troy refrained from correcting her on the name, and from pointing out that Magnet Man was actually an enemy of Mega Man from Mega Man 3. "Listen, when she was born we made an agreement: I got to dress her up however I wanted," Troy said, keeping his tone light and joking, still worried that he had inadvertently annoyed his wife.

"Funny, I don't remember that agreement," Britta said skeptically, but Troy could see the amusement in her eyes now.

"It was an implicit part of choosing your la-, uh, _cultured_ book idea over my awesome comic book one for the baby's name." Troy answered, relaxing as it became clearer that whatever had his wife down, and he could still tell she was stressed about something, it wasn't his fault.

"See, if we _had_ gone with your suggestion, I think I would have gotten a much bigger concession out of you then being able to put nerdy costumes on our child. I would have needed to, to get me to go along with it. I think I would still be hearing it from Shirley if I'd named my daughter Mary-Jane." Britta said. She was rolling her eyes, but Troy could see a smile just starting to break through on her face.

Jules took this opportunity to let out a gigantic (for her) yawn, and Troy couldn't help but let out a small "aww" at the way all her tiny features scrunched together.

"Oooh, poor Julesy," Britta cooed, rocking the tired baby in her arms. "Are Mommy and Daddy boring you with their playful banter?"

"I haven't put her down for a nap yet. We kind of had a Daddy's day out after I got out of work."

Britta smiled at him. "I figured you would. I'll take care of her, don't worry. I haven't seen her since this morning and I miss my little rutabaga." She planted a kiss on his cheek.

Britta carried Jules, who was already starting to fall asleep in her mother's arms, off towards her nursery, singing a lullaby under her breath as she went. Troy decided to busy himself in the kitchen, which was located in a medium sized nook next to the living room. It was his turn to make dinner tonight, and he figured it was a good idea to get a head start. He'd already decided earlier in the day that he was going to make a hearty brown stew, and had even picked up some ingredients while he was out with Jules, so he set to work chopping vegetables. Troy was still not personally a vegetarian, but the meals he and Britta cooked for each other always were. It had made things easier, and Troy had grown to appreciate a wider range of non-meat based foods, even if he still indulged in a nice steak every once in a while when they went out to eat.

He was halfway done chopping some red bell peppers when his wife emerged from Jules's room, shutting the door behind her and sighing heavily. Troy stopped and set the knife on the wooden cutting board in front of him and turned to his wife, frowning.

"Britta?" he asked, "You alright? I thought at first you were just annoyed that I'd bought another dumb costume, but…"

"No, it's not that," she said quickly. She made her way over to the gray fabric couch in the center of their living room and plopped down into it. "Just a long day."

Troy abandoned the kitchen, knowing the vegetables would keep. He made his way behind the couch, and reached out to give his partner a loving massage. He felt the knots in her shoulders as he kneaded her flesh with his thumbs. Britta let an appreciative moan at his ministrations, rolling her shoulders down her back and pushing them up into his fingers.

"I think its adorable the way you dress her up. I don't want to give you the impression I don't. She loves the attention you give her so much." Britta said.

"If she didn't keep growing all the time then I wouldn't have to keep buying her new ones." Troy reasoned.

"You just want her to stay your little girl forever, don't you?" Britta asked, but Troy could hear the smile in her voice.

"Not forever," Troy answered, "Just until she turns 18. 21 maybe."

"Abed came to see me at lunch," Britta said suddenly. Troy could feel her tense up again through his fingertips. He stopped massaging her.

"Is he okay? He bailed on game night Sunday, and he pretty much never does that. Especially with Diablo 4 coming out and all."

"Yeah… I think he's okay. I don't know." She looked back at him, frowning and wrinkling her nose. "I don't know how much I should say. I'm not sure how much of our conversation was covered under patient privilege. Maybe I shouldn't even have brought it up…"

Troy resumed his backrub, not wanting to make Britta feel any more ill at ease. Therapy with Abed had been a sour point between them in the past. In fact, it had lead to the first major rift in their relationship. They'd argued, repeatedly, about the time she was spending with Abed during their fourth year at Greendale Community College. Her refusal to tell him anything about her sessions with Abed had been a source of tension between them, especially since Troy had been convinced that much of what they talked about related to him, and his and Abed's relationship. Troy had been worried about his friend, and, he could now admit with the perspective and distance that time brought, a little bit jealous at the prospect that someone other than himself was responsible for Abed's well-being.

Looking back at it now, he realized he had been unreasonable. Yes, there had been many dysfunctionalities that had arisen out of Britta's therapy, something that he knew his wife would freely admit to now. But Troy had witnessed the way his best friend had become more emotionally self-aware with Britta's help. He didn't think that Abed's relationship and eventual marriage to Annie would have been possible without it, and that event had brought his friend more joy than anything else in the world. Still, he knew Britta was divided about the subject, in no small part because of the way it had threatened to torpedo their relationship.

So he bent over, and kissed her on top of her head.

"I think you brought it up because you're stressing out about it, you know, because of what happened before and stuff," he said not wanting to open up old wounds, "But I don't think you should regret talking to him. You're fucking good at what you do, Britta. If he needed help today, I can't think of anyone else better suited to give it to him."

Britta smiled, openly and fully, and Troy, not for the first time, reveled in the beauty that that gesture brought to her face.

"Thanks, Troy. That means a lot. You're right I've… kind of been freaking out about the whole thing all day, to be honest."

"Well don't." he said with conviction.

"So how'd you manage to get off work early?" Britta asked, changing the subject. "Carol passed along your message but it didn't really go into specifics."

"Oh. We had a couple of people re-arrange their panel installation times. It's gonna mean more work later, but it gave me the afternoon off today. We'll have to sit down and figure out if we need to book more daycare hours for Jules next week."

Both of their schedules, thankfully, were pretty pliable. Troy still did a lot of house calls himself, but he had an entire company full of repair men behind him now, and Britta set her own hours. This allowed them to build their days around Julia. They still depended on daycare to a degree, but were able to spend more time with their daughter than most working parents were able to manage.

"Well, I'm glad you got the afternoon to spend with Julia today, anyway. She's not going to stay a kid forever." Britta said.

Troy didn't want to focus on those kind of sad inevitabilities right now, so he leaned forward to kiss Britta on the lips. He'd intended for it to be a brief kiss, but both of them let it drag out. Soon, before Troy could really comprehend the shift, it had become passionate. Britta turned on the couch and sat backwards in it, resting on her knees, snaking her arms around Troy's neck and pulling him as close as the piece of furniture between them would allow.

"We've still got maybe an hour or so before Jules wakes up," Britta whispered in his ear. Her cheeks were flushed, and Troy could see the arousal in her eyes, arousal he was sure were mirrored in his own.

"I was in the middle of cooking dinner…" Troy began, but his objection was half-hearted.

"Dinner can wait," Britta said, standing and taking Troy's hand. "I need you."

She didn't need to say anything else. Troy let her lead him to their bedroom, and shut the door behind them.


	5. Greendale is where I belong

_Author's note: Someone asked in the reviews what book Britta got Julia's name came from. In case anyone else was wondering too, it comes from 1984. I tried to make a "Do it to Julia!" joke but it didn't really fit._

Jeff Winger studied his reflection in the mirror, one hand tracing his jaw line. The little flecks of gray in his beard were spreading, slowly expanding outward into patches. When he'd noticed the first gray hair, he'd had what some (nosy, blond) people might call a crisis, furiously trying different combinations of dyes in an effort to hide the creeping signs of old age. Eventually, he'd come to his senses and yielded to the forward march of time. He'd considered it something of a breakthrough.

But breakthroughs didn't mean your anxieties just go away, as he'd come to learn.

"Jeff?" a voice called from the other room. "Where'd you disappear to?

He briefly turned away from the medicine cabinet. "I'm in the bathroom!" he called.

He heard footsteps rounding the corner right before Nora appeared behind his reflection in the mirror. She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Gazing at yourself again, Narcissus? Really Jeff, you were nowhere near this nervous right before I met your mother." She pouted her lips, and asked teasingly: "Afraid your friends aren't going to like me?"

After he'd gotten himself re-instated to the Colorado state bar, Jeff had found himself with lots of free time on his hands. Between the black mark of his disbarment and Alan's active sabotage, Jeff had had trouble attracting reputable clients. Shirley had insisted that Jeff accept a generous retainer once her Sandwich shop had gotten off the ground, so money hadn't been a problem, but after she'd established the business there was little actual legal work for him to do. With his quest to replace his bachelor's degree fulfilled, Jeff had found himself growing… bored.

Pro-bono work had provided a useful outlet, and it was in this context that he'd met Nora. She ran a local non-profit pre-school that had been getting pressured to sell by some asshole property developer. The school couldn't afford to pay a lawyer to contest his lawsuits, so Jeff had offered his services free of charge. He'd gotten the case thrown out of court, and Jeff and Nora had struck up a friendship. The case, and others like them, had gone a long way to repairing his reputation, and the fact that the property developer had been represented by his old firm was just an added bonus.

They'd kept in contact, even as Alan's professional self-destruction opened the door for Jeff to expand his business to paying clients. He'd provided her with plenty of legal aid, and they'd grown gradually… closer.

He'd been hesitant to introduce her to the group for a while. He'd had a couple of relationships break against the cliffs of his emotional attachment to those 6… no, he thought, swallowing hard… 5 goofballs, and that wasn't even taking into consideration his complicated histories with Britta and Annie. But after enough haranguing from Shirley he'd given in and invited Nora to one of their potlucks.

"They're going to love you," Jeff said, smiling. "And I don't think I'm the only nervous one, Ms. Projects-A-Lot. How many times did you ask me if I was sure a bottle of wine was enough to bring to this?"

"I corked it and left it on the counter to breathe, by the way." Nora stepped forward and straightened his collar. "I think it's cute you care so much what I think of them Jeff. Especially since two of them are your exes. It shows character."

"Annie was never my girlfriend!" Jeff said hurriedly. "And I don't think Britta would be happy with that label either, come to think of it. She only just stopped insisting I call Troy her 'life-partner' instead of husband," he added jokingly, worried that he'd responded just a bit too quickly.

She grinned. "I never get to see you this flustered! I think I'm going to love tonight."

Jeff was becoming more and more sure he was going to hate it.

#

Shirley and Andre were the first to arrive, later that night. Shirley had taken one glance at Nora in her stylish black cocktail dress and let out an excited little squeak. She dragged her off to the kitchen, peppering her with questions the whole way. Jeff looked after them, a slight look of worry creasing his features, but Andre just laughed.

"She's been looking forward to this all week. It's all she's been talking about."

Jeff smiled. He noticed the familiar piece of ceramic cookware in Andre's hands. "Mac and cheese?" he asked.

"With Pepperjack, yeah. She's always said it's your favorite," Andre said.

His stomach, which was gurgling at the smell wafting from the dish, didn't disagree, even if the weight-conscious part of his mind was already counting the grams of carbohydrates contained in the breaded pasta. "Can I get you something to drink, Andre?"

"I wouldn't say no to some of your scotch," the other man said with a smile.

By the time he'd gotten himself and Andre squared away with drinks, Troy, Annie, Britta and Abed had shown up. They usually carpooled to these things together, on the days that it wasn't held at one of their homes. Abed had once tried to explain the system he'd developed to determine who would be the designated driver for any given week, which he claimed took everything from personal preference to tendency to drink sloppily, but Jeff hadn't really followed him.

Abed and Annie seemed more at ease with each other, which made Jeff feel a lot better. Part of the reason he'd been dreading that week's dinner was because of the slowly ratcheting tension, occasionally bordering on hostility, that he'd noticed between the couple. But now there they were, holding hands in his front hall.

It made him glad. He cared about both of them.

After some perfunctory small talk, Annie noticed the bottle of wine sitting opened over on the dining room table. She walked over and picked it up, reading the label.

"Oooh, fancy," she said. "Who brought this? It's a really good year."

"Nora," Jeff said, taking a sip of scotch.

"Jeff's new girlfriend brought booze? I like her already!" Troy said excitedly.

"Where is this mythical creature, anyway?" Britta asked, pursing her lips to one side.

"My wife dragged her off to the kitchen a little while ago." Andre answered, "If we don't sit down to eat soon, she'll probably talk her ear off."

"I think Nora will probably be alright," Jeff said as he drained his glass. Who knew what they were talking about in there, what terrible stories Shirley was sharing.

"Well, Craig should be here soon. He said he might run a little late and that we should get started without him." Abed said.

"Good. I'm getting hungry." Jeff said, looking down at his empty glass. "I'll go get Nora and Shirley and some tableware, you guys get started getting set up out here.

Jeff heard Shirley and Nora laughing before he'd even entered the kitchen.

"-and then Jeffery lifts his left leg onto the table, and we can see his whole- oh… hi Jeff!" Shirley finished quickly as Jeff walked in, a broad smile plastered on her face.

"Shirley." Jeff says, looking between the two women. _I knew I shouldn't have left them together for so long…_ he thought.

"I had no idea you had such a passion for pool, Jeffery," Nora said, drawing out his full name as she wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye.

"Right. Coah Bogner's class. So glad you remembered that story, Shirley," Jeff said evenly.

"Oh Jeffery don't be a spoil sport," Shirley said indignantly. "Did I hear the others show up?"

"Yeah, you did. We're still waiting on the Dean but he said to get started without him. The others are already setting up the dining room table."

Nora turned around and grabbed a stack of plates from the cupboard she'd been standing in front of. She knew the set up of Jeff's apartment pretty well by now. Judging by Shirley's raised eyebrow, she noticed this fact too, but didn't say anything. She looked pleased, though.

"Well let's go help out. I want to meet the rest of your friends…" Nora said, smiling at him, "…Jeffery."

#

The spread looked especially appetizing, this week. In addition to Shirley's Mac and Cheese, Britta and Troy had brought a vegetarian Sheppard's Pie: a mix of summer vegetables cooked in their own juices and tomato sauce, then covered with a layer of mashed potatoes and baked. Abed and Annie brought a generous amount of falafel, along with some home-made hummus and plenty of fresh pita bread. In hopes of helping Nora feel better about only bringing wine, Jeff had spent the better part of the evening before the group had shown up helping her prepare Beef Wellington. Jeff, not being much of a chef on his own, usually just brought something store bought to these things, but the feeling of pride that he felt creeping through his tiny lawyer heart as he looked at his and Nora's creation sitting front and center in the middle of the table made him think strongly about changing his ways.

Craig Pelton, who'd finally turned up when they were halfway done setting the table, had brought some bread pudding for dessert.

Now they were all seated around Jeff's large dining room table, drinks poured (except for Shirley, who didn't drink, and Abed and the Dean, who both had to drive).

Jeff stood, glass in hand, and gazed at the assorted faces gathered in front of him. Some he'd known for longer. Some shorter. Some he had connected with immediately, while some had taken time to grow into his heart. All of them felt like family.

It was traditional, a tradition he'd started at the first one of these pot lucks in the post-Greendale era, for the host to say a few words before they dug in. They all had their different faiths, or lack thereof, but this secular form of saying grace had persisted.

"Well…" he began, "I'm sure you've all noticed by now that we have a new face around the table tonight. I think you've all met Nora, by now. She's my, uh, girlfriend." _Christ this is lame, Winger._ He reached up to scratch the back of his head. He saw Britta's lips twitch at his awkward start. He could tell she was loving this.

"This, uh, isn't the first time we've extended our community out to bring in new people," Jeff continued, becoming more confident as he found a narrative thread to grasp onto, "Dean Pelton, Andre, you weren't in our study group at Greendale, even if you were both close to us in your own ways."

Andre raised his glass to Jeff, while the Dean pressed his hand over his heart and smiled.

"We brought them in because they were important to us. And this group, this little artificial family, no matter how incestuous or tumultuous it's gotten at times, has always been about how our connections to one another are what make us strong.

"And Nora's important to me. She makes me strong, just like all of you do. And I realize knitting those bonds together, bringing the parts of my life that make me happy together, that's just going to make them more beautiful. Having all of you together, breaking bread with me… its one of the greatest privileges I can imagine."

He stopped, looking around the table again. Nora was staring up at him, smiling, and her eyes shining. Shirley looked like she was about to start crying, and had one of Andre's hands clutched between both of hers. Britta had lost her smirk and was looking thoughtful, and Troy, sitting next to her, gave him a small thumbs up when their eyes met. Annie and Abed were looking at each other, gazing into each other's eyes in a way that made Jeff's heart swell up a little bit. Dean Pelton still looked thrilled that he'd been mentioned by name.

"Well…" Jeff stammered, beginning to feel self conscious again, "let's eat!" Once he'd sat back down, Nora reached under the table to give his hand a squeeze. He looked over and smiled, and squeezed back.

Dinner passed pleasantly. The group had a lot of questions for their new guest. Craig complimented her outfit, and Nora seemed unfazed when he asked her where she'd bought it. Britta and Troy were particularly interested in her pre-school, which turned out to be fairly close to where they lived. They made inquiries into the school's admissions process, which gradually shifted the conversation over to stories of their daughter, one of their favorite subjects.

"And she's gotten sharp as hell lately," Troy gushed, aided in his enthusiasm by the three glasses of wine he'd drunken by that point. "She said an actual sentence yesterday! Well, okay, 'Daddy, up' is only two words, but it's still technically a sentence.

"Awww!" Annie cooed. "You guys have to let us babysit her this weekend! We haven't gotten to see her in forever."

Jeff, who had been listening with amusement, tensed, nervous about Abed's reaction to this. But Annie's husband just smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm sure you can find a way to twist our arms into it," Britta said with a smile, taking a sip of her own drink.

"Well she sounds like a lovely child. You two should stop by my office next week, and we can talk more in depth about Julia's prospects," Nora said. She ate a spoonful of the Dean's pudding, which she'd just served herself a portion of. "Mmmm, Craig, this is really good!"

"Oh, well, old Pelton family recipe," said the Dean, waving off the compliment.

Clean up was quick and efficient, with nine people. Annie and Abed busied themselves washing dishes together in the kitchen while everyone else helped clear the table and straighten up. Afterwards, people split up across Jeff's apartment, catching up with each other as they finished their drinks or started new ones. Shirley and Andre made their goodbyes, Shirley reminding Nora one last time to come and check out her restaurant, anytime.

Jeff was standing off by himself, idly sipping at the scotch in his hands when Britta walked up to him. He'd developed a pretty good ability to guess her level of inebriation over the years, and right now he'd peg her roughly at "tipsy".

"Nice speech," she said.

"Thanks. I could tell you were getting a real kick out of it." Jeff said sardonically.

"Oh come on, a girl's not allowed a little bit of schadenfreude every once in a while?" Britta asked, a smile playing across her face. "Besides, you managed to save it there near the end, like you usually manage to do."

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Jeff took another sip to cover up the silence.

"Nora seems like a good influence. I like her." Britta said finally, and Jeff felt the last chains of anxiety that had been weighing him down all night loosen from his shoulders.

"Yeah, she's great. Who would have thought that between the two of us, I'd be the one to end up with an age appropriate sexual partner?" Jeff quipped.

"God. You're never going to let that go, are you?" Britta asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Nope." Jeff grinned.

Britta glanced over towards the dining room, where Troy and Abed were engaged in conversation. They exchanged their signature handshake, Troy perhaps a bit less expertly than normally, and Britta smiled.

"It's worth it," she sighed, wistfully.

Troy and Abed made their way over to Jeff and Britta. Troy draped one arm over his wife, and grinned sloppily at her.

"Hey babe, ya ready to get going?" he asked.

"Do you know where Annie is?" Abed asked, less drunkenly.

"She was in the kitchen with the Dean, talking to Nora when I left her a couple of minutes ago." Britta answered as she snuggled under Troy's arm.

"Well Jeff. Nice dinner man. I don't know how you managed to cook a slab of beef inside a piece of bread, but that was delicious dude." Troy reached out and shook Jeff's hand.

"Why don't you guys go get Annie while I say goodbye to Jeff?" Abed suggested.

"Okay," Britta said, before turning to Jeff one last time. "So long Winger. I have to get my husband home so I can take advantage of him later." And with that the pair headed off towards the kitchen. Troy's arm over her shoulder made it for easier for Britta to keep him stable as they walked.

"You seem a lot better now." Abed said once they were gone.

"Me? I was about to say the same thing to you," Jeff said, frowning.

"You didn't talk much during dinner. And you drank a lot more than you usually do at these things." Abed observed.

He was right. Jeff was really starting to feel the effects of his drinking. Each beat of his heart brought more alcohol-laden blood to his brain, which was already buzzing pleasantly.

"The dinner was… important to me, I guess. I wanted it to go well," Jeff said, feeling self-conscious again.

"No, I get it. Change is scary, especially when it involves people you care about. But scary is good sometimes, like on a rollercoaster, or a Hitchcock film. Not the Will Smith romantic comedy, that was pretty awful. I'm rambling, sorry. I just wanted to say: I'm glad you're feeling better."

The whole night, he'd been worried about Abed, and it turned out Abed had been just as worried about him. Jeff felt his eyes start to water. He pulled Abed into a hug so he wouldn't notice.

"Thanks, Abed," he said into his friend's shoulder.

Abed patted him slowly on the back. "You're a huge nerd."

Jeff laughed at the memory's that brought back, pulling away. "I still miss your old dorm room, sometimes, you know."

Abed smiled. "Me too. But you can't stay in one place forever. Star Wars would've been pretty bad if Luke just hung around Tashi Station the whole time."

"Are you and Annie going to be okay?" Jeff asked, changing the subject. He saw Abed's look of surprise. "You're not the only one who can observe shit, Abed."

"Yeah. Yes. We're going to be great. We had some issues… still do maybe. But we're going to be fine."

"Good." Jeff said. "I didn't want to have to beat you up, you know, if I found out you were treating her wrong." He slapped Abed on the shoulder.

Abed smiled at his slightly inebriated friend.

#

"I can see why you wanted me to meet them," Nora said, sitting on Jeff's lap later after everyone had left. "They seem like great people."

Jeff ran his hand over her shoulder. "Yeah? I'm glad you liked them."

"So…?" Nora asked.

"What?" Jeff looked at her, confused.

"Am I invited to the next dinner?" she asked, smiling and rubbing his cheek.

"Oh, right! Of course you are. They all loved you, just like I said they would." He yawned. "Plus next week is at Troy and Britta's, so you can meet their kid too."

"I'd like that." Nora rested her head against Jeff's chest. He took the opportunity to smell her, burying his nose in her dark brown hair.

They fell asleep like that, both too full of good food, booze, and happy memories to get up.


End file.
